The Broken Halo Bond
by Explicitly Awesome
Summary: Mildly inter-connected drabbles featuring the best underrated Supernatural pairing: Jo/Gabriel
1. Saving Souls

**Chapter 1: Saving Souls**

**Summery: As Jo dies, someone is there, in the back of her mind, helping her cope.**

**Warnings: Spoilers/character death**

**A/N: Jo/Gabriel, I ship it. I own nothing etc etc. This is based off of Broken Halo Brigade, which is a former, deleted story of mine. So if any chapters bare resemblance to that short-lived pile of suckage - that would be why.**

* * *

Even as the scent of blood, pain and fear filled the air, she could still recognize a cliche when she saw one. Hearing a voice in the depths of your mind as you lay dying - comforting you, distracting you - was a horrible cliche. It was typically reserved for cheap flicks and shitty novels. Yet, here she was - Johanna Beth Harvelle - listening to the smooth, sarcastic voice she only vaguely recognized.

"Hey!" The voice called as another wave of agony seized her body, "Pay attention to me, sweet cheeks, not the pain."

Jo grit her teeth, fuck, her subconscious was pushy, "I'm holding my guts in with an Ace bandage - not much but pain. Now go away." She wouldn't admit it, but listening to the strange voice hum in agreement made her affliction roar a little quieter.

"Look at it this way, kiddo, it'll stop hurting soon," the voice offered as consolation. Jo watched the Winchesters gather the materials for the bomb - processing the information once again. Dean, the floor, her hands were all stained with blood. Her blood. She could almost hear the click - and her stomach would've sunk if it was in its proper place.

"I'm going to die before this place blows." She scoffed, "Figures, strapped to a fucking explosive and I get to die a long and painful one."

The voice gave a short noise of hesitation before a quick 'snap' resounded through her body, instantly the pain lessened to a more 'manageable' torture. Manageable being an iffy term when you've literally been torn apart. It was still better than the feeling of flames licking their way from her abdomen, for that, she would be grateful for the rest of her short, short life.

"I'm sorry," the voice sounded guilty for what he'd done, "It's all I can do - but just... don't worry."

"Who are you?"

"I came into your bar a couple times, ordered an Appletini or six. To be honest, I could have drunken everything behind that counter and still driven home, there was this one time my brother and I -" The voice faded as her mother approached with her decision to stay. Jo fought weakly, knowing nothing could budge Ellen Harvelle when it came to her daughter.

Dean kissed her forehead, trying not to cry.

Her mother held the trigger in one hand, the other arm wrapped in a vice-like grip around her only child.

Jo couldn't tell if the voice disappeared with her upcoming death, or stayed silent out of respect for their goodbyes. Pain stopped all together - not the effect of the mysterious being who whispered to her, but the effect of a body closing in on itself.

When he returned, the sarcastic edge was gone, instead it held a comforting glow. It felt like her mothers embrace and her fathers old leather jacket. Like a summer wind and a fire in the winter. It was like every time Jo felt safe, comfortable and warm.

The voice was everything wrapped in a loving, protective tone, and it whispered, "Close your eyes."

* * *

**A/N: This is going to be an ongoing drabble machine, so if you want to leave prompts or ideas - please do so (keep it T, guys). If not, go ahead and review anyway.**


	2. Just the Basics

**Title: Just the Basics**

**Warnings: Mild Language, Spoilers**

**Summery: Jo meets the strange, unangelic angel who rescued her soul.**

Jo reclined in a field of purple Orchids, watching the clouds roll above her as she waited for the man who stole her soul to Heaven. He didn't tell her anything about himself just that he was to protect her and her mother from those who would use them as bargaining chips. She didn't even know his name, that is, if angels had names to begin with.

"We do, not that most of us like ours." Jo jumped as the sudden voice, only to find a short man lying beside her. The warm breeze rustled his whiskey brown hair as he turned to face her, "What? Surprised to see the guy you're waiting for?"

"Not without a little warning?"

"What can I say; quickness is kind of my thing."

Jo tried and failed to stifle a snort of laughter, but the mysterious angel just winked and replied with a smirk, "Not like that, buttercup, and if you play nice I'll prove it to you."

She chuckled before turning her attention back to the sky, "So, if angels have names, what's yours?" He looked up to the cloud she was watching, and with a quick snap, it morphed into a dog - running circles to chase its tail.

"I don't think telling you would be the safest option," he responded, snapping again to make the cloud-dog a fish, swimming circles. Jo clasped her hands behind her head, and spared an amused glance to him, "What's so dangerous about Heaven?"

"There are angels here who would gladly toss everyone the Winchesters love into the pits of Hell to get Dean to say yes to Michael. I happen to not want that to happen."

Jo sat up violently, "They want to send my mom and me to Hell?"

The angel nodded and folded his arms behind his head, hazel eyes meeting hers, "This isn't your Heaven, Jo, it's someone else's - it's far too dangerous to place your soul into your own. I had to catch you as soon as you died."

"What do you mean, my Heaven?"

"Everyone has a personal little chunk of Heaven, where your greatest memories replay themselves on a loop from now until forever - we're in the memory of a little girl from England currently- but I have to bounce you two around from Heaven to Heaven."

Jo just 'oh'd' and laid down again beside him, "So, if you're all the company I'm going to have until Dean and Sam put a bullet in Lucifer's face, can't I know your name - or at least what to call you?"

"Gabe, you can just call me Gabe."

Jo rolled onto her side, watching him through the flowers, "I know you." She laughed, "You drank six whole bottles of Vodka in one night five years ago - you told me that you had the alcohol tolerance of all of Ireland combined."

"I had to keep my eye on you two suckers some how."

Jo picked one of the Orchids and twirled it between her fingers, "You're not very angelic for an angel, and how do I know you really are one?"

There was sound like the rustling of feathers, and Gabe was suddenly above her - hands by either side of her head, holding him up. His body tensed and a pair of magnificent wings materialized behind him, unfurling slowly. They were large enough to block the sun shining above them and cast shadows across the field, but the golden colored feathers seemed to shine by themselves. Jo dropped the flower, suddenly dull in comparison, and reached out to one of them. Only inches away from feeling the mesmerizing appendages, they vanished in static fuzz, she recoiled sharply, but Gabe just shrugged and pushed himself to a standing position.

"Sorry, I'm not running full-power at the moment - limited wing action - my vessels pretty good looking enough to compensate though."

For the first time, Jo looked at him - really_ looked_. He wasn't a short as he appeared to be lying in the grass, but he still wasn't as tall as the Winchester brothers. But he defiantly layered up like one; a dark button-up was partially covered by a thick green jacket all over a pair of jeans. As she raked her eyes across him she couldn't help but think that the angel was right. His vessel wasn't that bad. He arched and eyebrow and smiled knowingly.

She propped herself up on her elbows, cocking her head to the side, "So, angels can just do whatever then? Drink, smoke, fuck?"

Gabe leaned in close, warm breath on her neck, and whispered conspiratorially, "Nope, but Archangels can." He vanished, leaving her bereft and confused in a field of wild Orchids.

**A/N: I had two ideas for chapters in my mind, this wasn't even one of them. Maybe one day Jo will get to touch Gabriels wings. Maybe... *insert usual plea for ideas and prompts here***


	3. Almost and the Jacket

**Chapter Title: Almost and the Jacket**

**Summery: Jo is starting to learn what it really means to be running away from angels. On foot. In Heaven. **

**Warnings: None**

Time passed differently in the sense that it didn't pass at all. In reality, Jo Harvelle was frozen in whatever time Gabriel decided to leave her. She'd passed her time in western-style saloons, sandy beaches or - in a particularly short visit - a can in a drive-in movie theater. It had taken a while before she realized that what seemed like months in Heaven - had been less that a week on Earth.

She had asked if Gabriel knew if the boys managed to 'gank the Devil'. He laughed. And laughed. And _laughed._

"Look, honey bunches, there are five things that can kill Lucifer - and that's only if he doesn't kill them first."

Jo's heart sank. "The Colt isn't one of them, is it?"

Gabe sighed, "We should move," and placed a hand on her shoulder; pulling them from an old farmhouse to a snow-covered field. The chill of the winter air mixed with the pain of knowing she and her mother had died for nothing - leaving Jo shivering in the thin tank top she had been ripped apart in.

Gabriel shrugged off the green jacket and draped it over her shoulders, "Look, Jo, I'll try my hardest to keep those two muttonheads alive. They can't kill my brother, but there is something they can do."

"What can kill Lucifer?" Jo's voice was stable, icy. But Gabriel could feel the burn of hatred as she clutched his jacket with white knuckles.

"Five things. God, Michael, Raphael, or me."

"What's the fifth thing?"

"Lucifer, but do you think my big bro plans on falling on his own sword? Raphael couldn't give more than half a fuck; so he won't do it. Michael can't without his vessel and, well, Dad split a long time ago."

Jo had slipped her arms into the jacket sleeves - her anger ebbing at the raw pain in the Archangels voice. She shuffled closer in the snow so she was directly in front of him. "You wont kill your brother, will you?"

Gabriel laughed bitterly, and shook his head.

"That six-winged dick, Satan, is not my brother, Lucifer is. But Lucifer is gone, so I'll do what I have to."

Jo didn't even pretend to understand what Gabriel was going through - instead she just wrapped her arms around him, resting her head against his chest. Shockingly, Jo could feel a heartbeat deep in the vessels heart and - even more shockingly - Gabriel returned her embrace. He held her tighter as snow began to fall, letting her breathe against him. He smelled like candy and bonfires.

"I shouldn't stay," he mumbled, "The longer I stay, the more dangerous it is."

Yet, neither made a move to separate. Jo pulled slightly away, wanting to look at Gabriel, onto to find him staring intently at her. Jo unhooked her arm from him and raised it to brush a strand of his whiskey colored hair back, the angel chucked slightly and cupped her chin and leaned closer to her. Jo's heart sped up painfully and she reached up to him, lips millimeters away, eyelids fluttering closed. But instead of the searing, impassioned kiss she expected, she was met with the light burst of air and an icy breeze stealing the warm the other body had offered.

She opened her eyes, and several feet away, Gabriel cleared his throat, "Is it too cold here, because I can take you somewhere else."

Outwardly, Jo appeared to had brushed off the encounter. She shrugged, "I'm a hunter, I can survive in most conditions - I'll just build a fire or something."

He gave a brusque nod, "I should go try to keep Rocky and Bullwinkle alive."

"Wait," Jo called, walking forward she held out his jacket, "They're not exactly hunting in Hawaii."

Gabriel pushed her hand back, lightly, "It's colder here, besides," he pointed to himself, "Archangel." He snapped and the jacket was back wrapped around Jo, "I'll be back to move you soon."

With that - the angel was gone.

Jo built a fire before sinking against the trunk of a nearby tree, burying her head in her arms she finally let her emotions breach her appearance. Loss, loneliness and rejection burned paths down her face. She missed everything: her mother, her father, the Winchesters, and the kiss that never happened.

**A/N: I really don't want this to be fitting any form of set time-line. When I get farther down, I'll try to label about when they take place. This one does take place a while from the previous. Feel free to leave me happy little reviews to make my day better :)**


	4. The Hunter and the Angel

**Chapter Title: The Hunter and the Angel**

**Chapter Summery: After a particularly boring stay, Gabriel takes Jo somewhere she's never been: Disneyland.**

**Warnings: Innuendo, swearing, some suggestive materials - but hey, it IS rated T. **

Jo studied the swirling patterns and clashing colors of Van Gogh's _Starry Night _intently before moving on the next painting. She had been following a smiley couple for the better part of the night. She sighed heavily. It had been a long three loops of their memory - and Jo was quite familiar with how it ended.

She had made a point to retreat back into the museum before the well dressed couple edged their way out behind the building for a little art of their own. It left her in a throng of people of a memory who would never know she was there – the curse of being out of her Heaven. She didn't belong there, she wasn't remembered there – therefore she didn't exist to the occupants. She could still touch and feel and punch – but they didn't react at all.

She'd remove drinks from their hands and down them without them even blinking an eye. Hell, Jo thought to herself, she could remove the paintings and no one would give a fuck. She smirked at the idea of paint-theft and perched herself atop what may have been a priceless piece of art, while she considered the security system. Light, for a museum, few motion detecting cameras in the corners and overweight security at every turn would make for an easy get away.

Unfortunately, Jo abandoned her building plan as a sharp 'snap' to her right caught her attention. She didn't need to turn to know who was perched beside her. She held an open palm out to him, silently demanding some of the candy he had summoned with his fingers.

"Oh! Hello, Gabriel, my eternally sexy love and protector, how lovely it is to see you," He squeaked in an attempt to mimic Jo's voice. She snorted in laughter, as he dropped a cherry lollipop into her hand. She removed the wrapper and popped it into her mouth; the Archangel had already done the same and was swinging his legs like a child.

Jo balled up the paper and tossed it at a server, hitting him in the shoulder. Gabriel did the same – beating her with a headshot. She nudged him and pulled the candy from her lips, "Here to whisk me away to watch paint _dry_ this time?"

His eyes suddenly lit up, as if he remembered something important. He flung himself from the statue, landing gracefully, "No! I had an idea so fantastic you'll be screaming in joy by the end of the day."

Jo raised an eyebrow at the description and Gabriel took her silence as acceptance and pulled her up by her hands. He paused for a moment before closing the gap wholly and wrapping his arms around her, tensing as he transported the pair into another memory of a different person.

* * *

"This is... what is this?" The words fell from her lips the second she opened her eyes to a wild mob of people. Most were screaming and cheering children being dragged across by frustrated and exhausted looking parents loaded down with bags.

Bags covered in mouse ears.

Oh god no.

The twenty-four year old hunter grabbed the Archangels arm and hissed, "I'm not a little kid, you know."

Gabriel laughed again, his head-back, hearty laugh that was usually reserved for punishment on the high and mighty or a really bad innuendo.

"Oh my little Josy wosy, I happen to have on very good authority that you've never been here."

Jo looked up, anger sparking in her brown eyes at the nickname – but she couldn't deny what he'd said. The daughter of a hunter and a bartender never got out much. Strike that, never got out at all. Some things were so far out the question that Johanna Beth Harvelle forgot that 'typical' childhoods were ever an option in life. Tentatively, she stepped forward, releasing Gabriel's arm. The air was filled with laughter and music and the smell of popcorn. She whipped around, trying to take it all in at once – in the distance was a castle – but in the other direction were towering roller-coasters. In one way there were Ferris Wheels, next there was restaurants and

Jo bit her lip, contemplating the overwhelming choices she faced. Her heart beat loudly against her ribcage as she spun around again; changing her mind from one thing to the next – after all, her time was limited there.

She felt an arm slip into hers, hooking at the elbows, sharply she whipped her head back around to find Gabriel smirking down at her, "I guess I can stay a little while," and he began to guide her down to the Ferris Wheel.

The Archangel snapped, and the seats were empty, he shrugged, "It's not like they'll notice; now you might want to prepare a little."

She was about to ask, 'for what?' but he was already rolling his shoulders –letting his wings into view. Since the first time Jo laid eyes on the sleek-looking appendages – she couldn't get enough. Every time he pulled them out she bit her lip and tried to memorize every feather for what it was. Concentrating on the longer feathers at the bottom, and then to the rounding of the joint, Jo wasn't exactly focused on Gabriel himself.

He flapped them carefully, stretching them as he did so – and then sharply pulled Jo into his arms, wrapping one around her waist tightly. Jo's eyes widened as she realized what he was going to do, "Bad idea, Gabriel, no, no, bad Archangel."

He just tightened his grip and raised his wings, ready to fly them up, "Feel free to use that last one as much as you want, sweet cheeks."

And with that they soared.

Jo glanced over his shoulder at the ground and people as they got smaller and smaller – she clenched her arms and they held a vice-grip around his neck. She could feel his wings beat as gained altitude and her stomach dropped. She was flying. With an angel, an angel who was whispering little encouragements as he _fucking flew her to the top of a Ferris Wheel._

They landed on the seat, and Gabriel helped to guide her down before flopping beside her.

"See!" He remarked, proudly, "Alive!"

Jo couldn't stop shaking long enough to notice he still hadn't dismissed his wings. Instead one was positioned above her awkwardly, whole the other hung out from the side of the seat. He lowered the one above her – the feathers running along her shoulders and down her arm until it came to rest around her. Like a small hug.

Hesitantly, she reached her hand over to stroke the feather – surprised when Gabriel let her. He leaned back and closed his eyes as she lightly petted the edge of the wing, the both of them smiling faintly. Jo had curled her legs underneath her and leaned against the Archangel, when a sudden and disturbing thought crossed her mind. She shifted a little against Gabriel before attempting to casually inquire, "So what does it _feel_ it?"

He opened a hazel eye and glanced over to her, "What do you – oh," He opened both eyes in shock, "… ooooh…," The grin he gave her was toothy and ridiculous, the laugh even more so – leaving Jo blushing.

"Oh cupcake that is too precious," he managed to cough out between fits of laughter, "It's not like a _wing job." _His own phrasing seemed to light his laughter aflame again – as well as Jo's embarrassment. After a moment he leaned against her and wrapped the wing a little more across her shoulders, becoming a little more serious, "It's like someone playing with your hair; it's just a little therapeutic from time to time."

She relaxed a little more, watching the sky darken above them, but Gabriel took her by the chin and turned her to face him, "Jo, _if_ it _was _the angelic equivalent of a hand job, I would've told you, I mean, I wouldn't let you if you didn't know. You can trust me, I'm not my brothers."

She raised her hand tentatively before placing it on the top of the wing – right beside its joint – and rubbed slightly, smiling. Gabriel laughed and nudged her with his shoulder – but she couldn't help but notice, "Umm Gabriel, aren't these things supposed to move?"

"Huh? Oh shit, I never unfroze it."

Sure enough – with a snap of his long fingers, the ride had started again. Gabriel never did fully put his wings away.

* * *

They went on everything they could get their hands on. Roller-Coasters, Tea-Cups, even bouncy castles. Whatever was there they saw, every game they played and every store they forced each other into ridiculous get-ups. Jo swears she will never forget the sight of on of Heavens most feared, wearing mouse ears attempting to give a sultry look. Gabriel swears he will never forget how hard she laughed and how much she smiled.

Midnight was approaching as they walked past the last store, their arms hooked in each others again. Gabe's wings firmly folded against his back. Jo was abruptly stopped by Gabriel when he halted outside the store, "We forgot something," he lamented, his voice unnaturally solemn. Jo, confused, inquired, "What did we forget?"

"Souvenirs."

Jo laughed, "We didn't need to get anything," but Gabriel cut her off, with a "Wait, wait, wait."

He snapped and a medium sized, overstuffed bear with little white wings dropped into his arms – he immediately handed it off to Jo. It was something she had seen in one of the stores and remarked that it reminded her of him. Jo bit her lip, "Gabriel, this is, this is the best – but wont it disappear when we leave this persons Heaven?"

He pointed to himself, "Archangel, I didn't summon it from the memory – I summoned it from when the memory happened it's the real deal."

She wrapped an arm around him, the other arm still clutching the bear tightly, "Now where?" she whispered before releasing him, Gabriel fluffed up his wings, "I have an idea."

He reached out a hand to teleport them – but she cried out, "Wait!" and knelt down by the ground. He tilted his head in mild confusion, but when she rose – she held, like it was glass, a single golden feather. His feather. She tucked it into the little bears wings and hooked her arm in his, "Ok then, now where to."

He stared at her for a second before taking them somewhere they've never been.

* * *

It was cozy and warm – a little cottage with a little wooden posted bed with an armchair beside it and little fire in the corner. The only thing that shocked Jo – was it was empty.

"Whose Heaven is this?"

"It's not Heaven, it's an alternate reality. It's not as safe for you here – but there's no one and you can actually sleep here – and I can stay to keep watch."

Jo glanced over to the single bed, "Do angels not sleep?" Gabriel shook his head, and snapped his fingers – leaving Jo in fluffy white pajama bottoms decaled with tiny yellow feathers and an oversized tee-shirt that smelled suspiciously like Gabriel. His wings, cramped in the tiny space, fizzed out in static as he leaned against the wall, watching the door intently.

Jo crawled into the warm bed, watching Gabriel as he tried very hard _not _to watch her. Jo patted the chair next to the bed, calling, "Come on, might as well be comfortable if you're gonna be up all night."

He gave in quickly, reclining back with his feet up as he watched the huntress' breathing even out as she held the stuffed toy tight. That was how he stayed, the angel keeping guard.

* * *

**A/N: Done for a friend who wanted a Disney story with Gabriel flying her up to rides. I feel like this was extensional long. Anywho - it probably takes place before Almost and the Jacket - what with the suffocating UST and such. R+R 3**


	5. False Realities

**Title: Fake Reality**

**Warnings: ~insinuation~ and bad writing - but that's a given. **

**General Placement: A far while into the future - with mildly established Jo/Gabriel. **

* * *

Memories that weren't hers had blended into one another - she had long lost the ability to tell the difference between what had been her life and what experience belonged to someone else. Ideas and fantasies ingrained themselves as facts - facts became fiction and lies.

Jo could feel the cool air rushing over her from the top of a hill in Canada. She could remember standing beside someone who would smile and look to the sky. Every time she closed her eyes – it was a new person beside her. It would be her father, her mother, Dean or Sam or Bobby. It wouldn't settle on anyone.

Jo would sit, back pressed against rocks or trees or buildings and focus on the memory, trying to make herself remember the truth. Then she would – and realize that she'd never been to Canada.

It was someone else's memory – someone else's Heaven. She could remember a little girl running through a field of wild flowers with her sister trailing close behind. She would envision those two next to her as Jo's father swept the three of them into his arms and swing them around. Then Jo would stop. She knew, just _knew _that never happened – but she remember it like it did.

She pressed her hands against her ears and screamed.

What was real?

Did she really sit in a tree and talk about boys with her best friend? Was it her who laughed until her sides hurt at a family dinner? Did she ever swim in a lake with the man she loved while the moonlight lit them? Was she only dreaming when Gabriel was leaving marks and bites across her neck?

Her thoughts argued inside her, she remembers them – therefore it happened. Yet, the other side of her couldn't name the faces that surrounded her at the fated dinner, couldn't feel the arms of her moonlit lover, or the delight of the mysterious girl. She could, however, remember the feeling of

Gabriel's lips on hers, his hands in her hair – but the events leading up to the embrace were lost to her.

She sunk to the ground, feeling her neck – just incase that was real. She buried her face in her hands, screaming a second time, cursing the Winchesters, the Angels, and every supernatural being in between. She screamed until her voice went hoarse – until Gabriel appeared before her – his eyes wide and panic written across his features.

"Jo, are you alright, what's wrong, who was it, what was it?" The questions came and rapid pace in increasingly worried tones. He kneeled in front of her, one hand cradling her chin and turning her tear-stained face to him. Warm brown eyes whipped back and forth, as if she could organize her thoughts with them. Her heart pounded painfully against her ribs, her breath came in short gasps. She hardly managed to whimper out, "I don't… I can't…" Tears welled in her eyes as fear turned the words to stone, closing her throat. She threw her arms around him instead, burying her face into the crook of his neck and sobbed against him. She clung tightly to him, relishing in the fact that at least now, he was _real_. And nothing could take that away.

Gabriel laid a hand her back in an attempt to sooth the dead hunter, "Jo, what happened," he whispered. She pulled away from him, sniffling slightly. Her dyed blonde hair was disheveled and her dark eyes bloodshot from crying – but somehow, to Gabriel, she still looked beautiful. Her brow furrowed as she attempted to explain, "I don't know what's real anymore. I'm remembering things that I shouldn't and I'm not remembering things the way I should."

Gabriel grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back so he could look at her fully, "Are you remembering other people's memories?"

She hesitated and he gave her a little shake, "Johanna Beth Harvelle, this is important, you focus on me, not on the memories – on me, here and now."

She nodded, looking at him and biting her lip in concentration, "Now, tell me what the last thing you remember from being alive is."

She bit her lip a little harder before responding, "I was in the warehouse."

He cut her off, "No, you weren't – that was a storeowner from New England who died in 1949."

"Store, I died in a store after a Hell Hound ripped me open." He nodded, holding a stern gaze.

"I was with this boy with red hair and glasses – no – he wasn't – no – yes he was." Jo gritted her teeth and clenched her eyes shut in frustration. Gabriel gripped her shoulders a little harder, "No, Jo, that kid's Heaven was a boring one – come on, he died 1998, remember _your _life. Not theirs. Look at me, baby, you've got to do this."

She opened her eyes, meeting Gabriel's, "I remember you, talking to me, and mom and Dean and Sam, but there's something missing, there's gotta be – I feel it."

Gabriel's hands loosened slightly, "There's nobody else Jo, I promise." She was still shaking, her heart still assaulting her chest with every pound. Gabriel pressed something small into her hand, "Remember this?"

She glanced down, and sitting in her palm was a small stuffed bear. It had once been normal sized – but she had asked Gabriel to shrink it so she could carry it around with her. Pocketed in his jacket the she still wore. It had been tucked away beside a golden feather. She stroked it lightly, feeling the actuality of her memories surface and the falsehoods fade slightly.

A memory came to light and she attached herself to it. She could remember the overwhelming scent of apples, the taste of candy on her lips as she was pressed against the trunk of a tree. She had trouble forming the words to explain, to question if it was reality.

"Did I… did I kiss you in apple orchard?"

The tension dissipated from the archangel, as he nodded, laughing slightly. Jo touched her lips, the sensation of being able to remember what if felt like was strange to her.

"I remember it. I remember what it felt like." She remarked in wonder. She closed her fist, keeping the small stuffed animal enclosed in her hand, "That was the first time…"

"And it defiantly wont be the last," Gabriel finished, leaning closer to her.

* * *

**A/N: Timelines are far too linear for my tastes. I like time loops, they're much loopier. **


	6. Boats and Brawls

**Title: Boats and Brawls**

**Summery: Running does funny things to a person.**

**Warnings: Nothing that wasn't previously mentioned.**

She was beginning to see a pattern. Most of the memories she found herself in were filled with warm night or open fields - but they all had one major thing in common: lovers. Over half of the brains that Gabriel dropped her in belonged to someone who was desperately in love. They would be running hand in hand through fields of wild flowers, talking in hushed tones as they watched the stars.  
It was starting to make Joanna Beth Harvelle sick. She was fed up with puppy dog eyes, cheesy pet names and (not very) witty banter. But most importantly, she was done with the lump that grew in her throat every time the couple looked at each other – that queasy longing deep in her stomach every time they said 'I love you'.

If she had a say, she would be somewhere in the Bahamas, alone, and drunk. Yet, she didn't. So instead of basking in the sun and silence, she found herself crammed at the end of a boat in Venice – watching as a dark-haired man proposed to his girlfriend on the other end. Again.

Jo had seen six proposal, thirteen wedding days (two wedding nights), eight different fields of flowers, five snowy cottages and one incident with a thunderstorm and a tent.

He was on one knee, spewing his love energetically and his to-be wife choked out 'yes'. They embraced gleefully and Jo blanched. She slipped her hand into the pocket of Gabriel's jacket, fingers toying with the edge of his feather. Every time she brushed across the soft surface, memories of that day in the snow climbed to the front of her memory. His breath was sweet against her lips, the heat from his body fighting away the chill of loneliness that engulfed her. She longed to go back to that memory, to be quicker, to rise on the tips of her toes and kiss him – hard and desperate and thankful.

The man at the other end of the boat seemed to be making a good attempt at eating his fiancés face. She was fighting back viciously, with her tongue.

Jo pulled the golden feather from the pocket and twirled it between two fingers, she sighed, "Our Gabriel, who art in…somewhere, these two are probably going to start ripping clothes off each other in less than five minutes. If you're not too busy, could you spare a second to drop me off somewhere with less horny bastards?"

He was beside her the moment the prayer left her lips. He smirked and took a bite of the candy bar he had arrived with. Hazel eyes watched her carefully as he chewed, whether assessing her expression or reading her mind – Jo could never tell.

"If I knew where we were going – it would defeat the purpose, because if I know my destination in Heaven while en route, Michael might know to."

Ok, defiantly reading her mind.

"No, I'm not."

She raised her eyebrow silently.

"Okay, maybe I am." He laughed, "I really am sorry for dropping you in the middle of a rather…mushy…couple, but I had to rush off. The arrogant prick and his pet tree got themselves killed."

Jo's jaw dropped as she struggled to regain her grip on her words, "But, how – why – who?"

Gabriel shrugged, "Got plugged by a couple other hunters – Castiel guided them around Heaven for a while and Joshua kicked them back down to Earth. By the way, a roadie with a mullet says hi."

Jo smiled mournfully, "That would be Ash – kind of miss him." She could still remember him; no evening at the Roadhouse was complete without his soft snores from the pool table, or his accented techno-babble.

Ash was the crack in the dam, one the she had just taken a sledgehammer to. Waves of pain rushed over Jo: Her mother, her Father, Sam, Dean, Gordon, the Roadhouse, Rick, Bobby, John, even Castiel.

She didn't even know she was crying until Gabriel's hand found her shoulder. It was an almost awkward embrace, but she fell against him. He shifted slightly, wrapping his arms around her and petting her hair. Her own hiccupping sobs drown out his murmurs of apologies, as if he was the one who set the Hell Hounds on her. He didn't seem to care as his shirt became stained with her tears.

Anger roared in her heart, anger at Michael for hunting her, angry at Lucifer for rising, angry at God and the Winchesters and the demon that killed her. She was angry with Gabriel for being the one to hide her, angry at herself for her tears, for letting herself die. 'This isn't Heaven' she told herself, 'It must be Hell.' She attempted to throw herself from Gabriel, but he held on tighter. The fire spread, taking control of her arms and her voice as she tried to wrestle away.

"Let me go, Gabriel!" She demanded, fists pounding uselessly at his chest. His arms wrapped tighter around her shoulders, pressing her close to him – his face unchanging. She squirmed and clawed and bit, but he refused to relinquish her to her fury. She growled out again in frustration, her demands becoming less words and more screams and threats as her fighting grew frantic and desperate.

She wanted him to let go, to leave her like everyone else so she could get over the loss of him too. She wanted him to let her fume and rage alone with no one but her thoughts to egg her on. Instead he stayed and held on to her like she was his life raft. He clung to her, as she wore herself down. Her scratches and jerky movements becoming more and more half-hearted as her fire burnt out.

He held onto her, still, as she went limp. Limbs shivering with a phantom cold, she curled against him and whispered, "I'm done with running and missing and everything."

He buried his nose in her hair, "I know, Jo, I know."

She moved so she could wrap her arms around his neck, one hand playing with his hair – the other tightly woven around him. They stayed that way for a few seconds, but it could have been hours, or weeks even. Jo was the first one the break the silence, "Can you take me somewhere happy?"

He could feel her smile against his skin as he asked, "Do you like apples?"

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**A/N: Sorry for this one taking a while - I was a bit busy in the real world. Tell me how you like it - I know, I'm doing a lot of a hurt!Jo and Comforting!Gabriel. **


	7. It Tastes Sweeter

**Title: It Tastes Sweeter (When You're Not Allowed)**

**Summery: At last! The Apple Orchard!**

**Warnings: The same spoilers as previously, I don't change much**

* * *

Jo Harvelle leaned back against the rough wood of the trees trunk. Two girls stood on the tips of their toes, laughing and whispering to each other as they jumped at the small ripe fruits. Jo just reclined and watched with a tilted head, invisible to the occupants of the memories, and wondered aloud, "So, is this what normal people _actually _do?"

Beside her, one of Heavens most powerful weapons shrugged, "Probably not, that's the thing about memories – they can lie to you and make everything seem better than it actually is." Jo snorted at his answer, and Gabriel let a small smile pull at the corners of his lips. The early autumn sun beat down on the two, and Jo shrugged out of the dark green hunting jacket that she had claimed as her own, folding it carefully by her side. She slipped down from the sitting position and lying back, she wiggled farther under the shade of the tree and propped her feet up on the archangels lap.

"You know," he mussed, "It would probably be more comfortable if you switch your position a little."

"Like how?" She mumbled, eyes closed and hands folded behind her head. Gabriel snapped quickly, and Jo shot up at the unexpected warmth and softness under her head. Upright and confused, she blinked a few times – where the golden haired trickster was once directly in her sights, he was no where to be seen. Instead she was staring at a different part of the apple orchid than she had been watching. But, judging by the badly concealed laughter behind her, it was just the scene she had had her back to previously. Embarrassment burning across the bridge of her nose and at the tips of her ears, Jo strained her neck to look behind her. Gabriel was leaned against a tree, body shaking with laughter. Jo smirked and laid back down, the soft and warm object she was atop previously apparently was his leg.

"Gabriel: Messenger of God, Archangel, and pillow," He smirked, absently stroking the silky blonde hair that spilled out over his lap. She hummed in agreement and added, "One comfy ass pillow too, Gabe – really warm."

"I run hot, it's the Grace – or maybe the sugar – I haven't decided yet."

"Whatever it is, don't stop, I like it."

He chuckled, "Alright, Jo, I wont."

Gabriel could almost feel her smile against him, face pressed into denim clad legs and head cradled near his hip joint. He alternated between playing idly with the ends of her hair and just running his hands down it. She pressed back into his touch each time he did – and he tried force the warmth growing in his chest from him and remind himself that she was only his charge. She was only the little girl he was set to protect. She was his duty, his job. Not even the self-given reminder that he was well over _three hundred _times her age could quench it. Giving up and chocking back all the words he wanted to say, Gabriel sunk a little lower against the tree and kept on petting the hair of the little blonde angel on his lap.

"I wouldn't want to go back, Gabriel." She admitted, her voice a little more thick than usual.

"What are you talking about, Jo?"

"My Heaven, I don't think I want to ever go there – even if it becomes safe. I just, I don't know, maybe God – your dad – knows what he's doing. Because, I feel like no Heaven could be better than this." She stumbled through her words, rushing certain parts and drawing out some to avoid the rest. She bit her lip and attempted to bury herself farther against him. The hand stroking her hair froze and he lifted it and placed it back at his side.

"I know, Jo, trust me when I say I know what Heavens really like - and I wish it was little more like this." Before he could stop himself, he pushed the hair away from her head and brushed his lips against her temple. Her breath caught in her throat and retreated back into her lungs – her heartbeat stuttered at the gesture.

Gabriel recoiled in horror and stammered out apologies, "Jo, I'm sorry, I didn't think, I wasn't totally, I blame the apples, or the sunshine, or – not it's totally my fault, I'm sorry Jo, It wont happen again, I should probably just 'poof' off now."

"If you even think about flapping away, I may actually end you," she warned, lifting herself from her spot curled against him. She looked at him and tilted her head, pale locks of hair falling into her eyes. She was waiting for his usually reply to her threat, but it died halfway through crossing his mind, the poor rebuttal never crossing his tongue.

"Ok," he scooted slightly back, "I'll stay – but I promise, hands to myself." As if to prove his point, he lifted his hands and folded them carefully in his lap. Jo laughed and leaned forward, soft lips brushing against his. It was just a moment of contact, not full, but close enough to feel the hot puff of air from him hear the strangled whine crawl from his throat. She lifted one of his hands and placed it to the side of her face, cupping her cheek gently, and leaned farther in – this time pressing the two together in a proper kiss.

She pulled away and smiled, "There's not really any need to, Gabriel." She stood up and walked to another tree, leaving the archangel in a confused and distant haze. She leaned up to pluck one of the ripe, red apples and take a large bite from it. She moaned slightly, and looked over to where her angel was laying, only to find him gone. She didn't have time to question his sudden disappearance when Jo found herself pressed against the tree by an unearthly strong and hot body.

His hands tangled in her hair and his lips found hers with ease. He clung to the human like she was the final breath of air he had before the water took him under. Like she was the last moment of flying he could savor before his wings were clipped. And she responded with the same level of passion.

When he pulled away, mindful that she still needed to breathe, her face was flushed, her lips were swollen and her hair was in a mess.

He chuckled and stroked the red cheek with his thumb, "If I didn't know enough about humans, I would've said that you were embarrassed when you blush," he looked down at the now discarded fruit, "After all, it's not the first time an apple has caused a little shame."

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**A/N: My only excuse - it was National Novel Writing Month last month, and well - lets just say I made it with about an hour to spare . I feel like these are getting progressively longer - and worry not, I should be updating more/again shortly. As for looking forward to in the next chapter, lets just say Gabriel makes a side trip to a place Jo might belong...**


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